Unexpectedly shaky. What do I do?
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On a completely unrelated note:

I want one! Ahh, so adorable.
Happy studying!!! (:
Unexpectedly shaky. What do I do?
.
.
.
.
.
On a completely unrelated note:

I want one! Ahh, so adorable.
Happy studying!!! (:
The little details don’t elude me: navy blue, dark brown, black, flaky gold, and earl grey.
I remember it all – the miniscule points that it possibly isn’t aware of itself.
Ennui – that “dainty monster!” (Charles Baudelaire’s To The Reader).
A bittersweet dilemma: too amazing to abandon; too heartbreaking to keep.
*Disclaimer: This is not a post to whine and complain about UCLA. Corresponding to popular belief, I’m happy here.*

Beautiful. Majestic. Elegant.
Simply uttering the name fills my ears with a tingling ring of regality and nobility: Dartmouth.
Even the residents of the Upper East-side of Manhattan respect this school (albeit fictionally in Gossip Girl): Nate Archibald’s father strives to successfully coerce Nate into attending.
If only they had accepted me from their wait list…If only I had kept my head on straight so that I could have transferred…If only, if only, if only! These regrets plague me everyday, akin to an annoyingly vivacious fly buzzing near my ear.
My eagerness to learn about the wonders of such a school would have prevented me from missing a single class.
Simply imagining the diversity (racially, socially, economically) of the student population, coming from all corners of the country, instills an intrigue in me that UCLA just cannot fulfill.
The yearning sees no limit.
As of now, I don’t know why I’m here at UCLA, but in a futile effort of consoling my heart-broken self, at least I won’t carry the burden of $100K student loans for my first two years of useless academic mediocrity…
Grad school is quite a stretch, but a girl can always dream.
Where are you?
& why are you so elusive?
Are all of my past deeds coalescing to entice karma?
I’m sorry; I’ve grown up now. Tremendously.
Please let me get what I want: my heart’s desire.
I don’t live by the rules.
I’m independent and excited, blissfully aware that my previous self has rebounded in to existence.
I’m speeding on a racetrack. Breathless.
VROOM VROOM!
The adrenaline drives me crazy.
Label me as “lame” if you wish, but I’m in love with life. (:
I haven’t been so intoxicated with joy since I forsake skating.
The quarter has just begun, but I’m already overwhelmed and exhausted.
Just the way I like it.
My passion for success and being in charge of an above-average life has at long last returned – it’s been on a 3-year hiatus since I retired my skates and relegated my skating outfits to the back of my closet. I just pray the fire doesn’t extinguish any time soon. (:
This is the quarter! BRING IT ON! Hahaha
Time to breathe a sigh of relief.
As quickly as it came, it left, which given my history, isn’t inconceivable but expected. It just lingered slightly longer than what is customary; perhaps its duration is what threw me off.
Winner: my head.
Although there won’t be a war to fight, I reckon sharpening my battle swords is
prudent rather than excessive. After all, a white flag isn’t forever.
Is it worth it? Taking a deep breath and a step back, removing myself from the game and placing myself on the sidelines, I have to ask, “Is it REALLY worth it?”
No, it’s not. Not at all. Not even close.
Then WHY?! Why do I continue to take part in this struggle? Even I can’t comprehend…
Is this a harbinger of the year to come?
The control I’ve always been so proud of has vanished, all sense of it.
I’ve lost my hold of the steering wheel; the car is now veering between extremes. I have two choices: 1)take command of the car, find the wheel, and drive straight or 2)enjoy the thrill of the ride until the imminent, and perhaps demolishing, accident.
So what will it be? Which will emerge victorious: my logical head or my foolish and immature heart?
This should be obvious – a dichotomy between right and wrong, but unfortunately, my choice is still pending.
Two out of four people I trusted enough to confide in shake their heads in bewilderment and irascibility at my obstinacy and ask, “Why? Why do you always want what you can’t have? Why do you set yourself up like that?”
Contrary to their beliefs, it’s not because it’s taboo – the tantalizing temptation of the forbidden fruit; the genesis of the attraction for the socially disapproved or banned is rarely a complication.
It’s because I’ve finally met my match for only the second time in my entire life: a worthy opponent. Everything else was too easy, came without much effort on my part; meanwhile, this is difficult, complete with a charming mind of its own and a desperate unwillingness to be tamed. Thus, I am immensely and painfully trapped in a sticky web of intrigue and curiosity.
What I once judged to be nothing but a mere triviality has consumed me; the superfluous addition to my every day and unexceptional annoyances is not as innocent as I once mused. Erroneous inferences and inconspicuously sly game are blatantly at fault.
However, it takes two to tango. I will emerge from this wreckage triumphant.
Does anyone else, at times, get bored with the dull monotony and plain tediousness of life?
For a while now, my life has just been so irritatingly routine: class, study, eat, gym, sleep, church, play.
I want a little bit of the spark to come back – a little unpredictability, excitement, and danger to break the adrenaline-void, 24-hour cycle. For a VERY short time during the summer, I had it, but to my dismay, it left. A head-on collision of emptiness teased me with the fleeting memory of “what was,” and I want it back.
But…I can’t even really define what “it” is. Perhaps the “it” I so desire isn’t even tangible but merely an amalgamation of exhilaration and mystery…? Hmm.